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Posted by on Dec 14, 2008

Thoughts from the back of Nancy’s car on the way to Incheon Airport

Your conversation draws me from my own sullen facade.
A rhythm of friendly banter, of our not wanting to say goodbye.

I listen to each word timed with the lines on the median,
see each tree, newly planted, on those artificial hills, adjacent to Samsung ads,
bright as the angry dawn.

I hear the tires cross each crease, a tap, tap, tap lingering beneath your joyful chatter.
I hear a pulse.

At the airport now. We can only muster a meek goodbye.

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